


Under a Spell

by the_invisible_cat



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Hair-pulling, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_invisible_cat/pseuds/the_invisible_cat
Summary: Tolfdir and the Arch Mage refuses to let Ancano in on their findings in Saarthal, leaving the advisor no choice but to seek out answers from one of the students. He sets his eyes on a young mage named Alva, and begins coercing the young breton to reveal his secrets. Little does he know that the mage has an agenda of his own.
Relationships: Ancano (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Plotting a heist

**Author's Note:**

> I will be the first to admit that this story could probably use some work. Though honestly I kind of just want to get some more Ancano stuff out there as soon as possible c#: This will be a slowburn, and I will add more tags as I post. It will probably take some time to get to the juicier parts of the story, but I shall do my best! 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

The doors to the Arcaneum opened and closed as scholars and students flocked to the shelves. The sun had barely risen, beams of light gleaming through the windows across the hall. A breton greeted the visitors with a worn out expression hiding behind a friendly smile.  
Urag gro-Shub, the proud librarian of the faction, sat by his desk, quill in hand, surrounded by piles of books and tomes. The orc diligently dragged his hand over his fresh parchment. He was writing letters of gratitude for the recent donations. Skyrim, on the whole, were still perhaps a little well cautious about their work, but this gift served as a welcoming sign of change.

“Mister Alva, please see to these books once you’re done with the other ones.” Urag gazed upon the new additions, a paternal twinkle in his eyes. 

Alva peaked out from behind a bookshelf. “Sure thing!” He yawned, his hand instinctively reaching for his mouth, rubbing his jaw. He had been set to work far too early, the orc practically dragging him from his bed chambers. 

Upon initially being picked out to assist the old orc, Alva had felt a sense of honor and importance. The reality of his position was unfortunately far less glamorous, but the young mage wasn’t one for complaining. At least not within earshot of his superior. This was possibly one of the reasons several of the scholars had taken a liking to him. Although he wasn’t very talkative, he would often stop and chat with whoever visited the library.

Drevis Neloren, an eccentric recluse of a dunmer and scholar of illusion, had been heard ramble about how unbalanced the various points of focus were. Alva noticed the exasperation in his voice and offered to lend the scholar a hand. Drevis had gratefully accepted, remarking how helpful the student was. J’zargo, another student, had noticed this trait in his classmate as well. He would only approach the breton to try to persuade him to test his shady scrolls. When Alva gave in, the khajiit’s whiskers rose, his sharp teeth bared. The smile he gave was short-lived however, as the big cat noticed how unnerved it made his classmate. “J’zargo is eager to hear how the scrolls are working.” He purred, patting the breton’s shoulder a few times too many in an attempt to be friendly.  
Alva just chuckled, giving the cat a thumbs up. The khajiit mimicked the gesture, giving Alva an inquisitive look. The breton nodded in approval, before the khajiit abruptly shoved a large stack of scrolls into his arms. 

All these kind gestures had given Alva a certain reputation. It was difficult to move around the college when one was at constant risk of being subjugated to experimental spells or asked to locate stolen books.  
Seeing as rejection was as difficult to give as it was to take for the breton, he had grown adept at tiptoeing around the nooks and crannies of the college, invisible to most.

Alva placed an ordinary Flames tome back into one of the large bookcases, hearing footsteps approach him from behind. His face was laced with confusion after he turned his head and met the frustrated expression of his nord classmate, Onmund. 

“Good morning?” The breton turned to fully face his classmates, crooking his neck and raising a brow as something was clearly bugging the nord. “Can I help you?”

"Yes, but it needs to be kept quiet.” Onmund told him in a hushed voice. “I may have entered into an... agreement with Enthir. He had something I needed, so I traded him something of mine. It was a mistake, and now I want back what I gave him. It's an amulet that belonged to my family, and I never should've given it to Enthir. But he won't deal with me.” Onmund’s voice grew in desperation and volume as he retold his mistake, forgetting the delicacy of his problem.

“Alright, take a deep breath first.” Alva coaxed the nord, a hand raised to shush his classmate. They harmoniously inhaled and exhaled in tandem. 

“Good. Okay. What do you want me to do?” Alva’s soft expression helped calm the nord a little. He thought for a moment before naming his request.

“Talk to him; see what it'll take to get my amulet back." He looked at the breton with pleading eyes.

Alva sighed, giving a nod of acceptance. “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll see what I can do.” He rubbed the corner of his eye. It was too early for all these conflicts, Alva thought to himself.

Onmund smiled, his face lit up with hope. “Thank you, Alva! I won’t forget about this.”

They exchanged soft smiles as they parted ways, Alva getting back to his books, resting his forehead against a shelf in exhaustion.  
No good deed goes unpunished, he thought, picking up a new book.

“I understand you have something of Onmund's. He wants it back.” Alva greeted the Bosmer, causing him to jump as he exited his room.  
The bosmer leered at the breton, studying the man’s small frame as he composed himself. "Oh my. How precious.” He slicked his hair back as he continued, a deceptive smirk plastered across his narrow face.

“Onmund is too afraid to deal with me himself, and so he's sent you. I'll make this very simple for you.” The mer lost his smirk, his expression turning humourless. “All my trades are final. Onmund knew this ahead of time, and went through with it anyway. So there's nothing more to be said." He crossed his arms, sizing the small male up. A silence fell over the hall, as the student contemplated ways to convince the stubborn elf. Alva’s gaze fell back on Enthir when he heard the bosmer scoff.  
“Those gears in your head are really turning, aren’t they?” He teased. The breton frowned. 

“There must be something I can do to change your mind.” Enthir’s mocking laughter faded away. He looked thoroughly amused by the breton’s determination. 

"Look how persistent you are. It's charming, really.” The bosmer mused, reaching out to play with a lock of the breton’s hair. 

“Onmund gave up the first time I said no. But not you... All right. I'll tell you a little story. Let's pretend for a moment that a certain individual was looking to acquire certain sensitive documents. Let's also pretend that he traded some valuable items for said documents. And it was only later that it was realized that this individual might...Be a member of the Thalmor, and would use such documents to further their agenda . The resulting disaster would reflect quite poorly on everyone involved. Are you following me?" Enthir wore a grave expression, looking at the breton expectantly. Alva twirled the mer’s fingers out of his hair, dropping it to his side before responding. 

“So if I am to understand you correctly… You refuse to let Onmund out of his trade, but want out of yours? Alva raised an eyebrow.

The bosmer raised his arms defensively. “It's an entirely different situation. I don't expect you to comprehend the nuances of these matters. Regardless, I'm making you a very simple offer. You get me those documents, and I give you Onmund's precious amulet. Do we have a deal?" 

Enthir’s hand was stretched out in front of him, his gaze fixed on the breton with anticipation. Alva momentarily looked away, returning his attention to squint at the bosmer. 

“Who has the documents?”

“Erhh…” It was clear Enthir had hoped the young mage would overlook the finer details of their deal for now. Alva raised his brow in suspicion.  
“Yeahh...erhm… That would be Ancano.” The bosmer’s eyes darted to the side, avoiding Alva’s dumbfounded expression.  
“Look, I know. But in my defense, it seemed like a mutually beneficial trade at the time. I mean, when the gold is good and plenty-”

“So.” Alva cut off the babbling wood elf. “You have possibly jeopardized the future of our college along with it’s already frail reputation...For gold?”

The bosmer licked his lips, his eyes bulging out as he scavenged the grotto’s of his mind for a respectable answer. “Among other things.“ His lips grew thinner. “And I wouldn’t say I necessarily jeopardized the college’s reputation. In fact, I’d like to think I’ve built some bridges, securing our standing in Skyrim.”  
He could feel Alva’s cold stare piercing his soul, and so they stood there in silence. Enthir’s pride refused to let him meet the breton’s glare before they had an agreement.  
“Deal.”  
It was Alva’s turn to reach a hand out. The bosmer’s smirk returned when they shook on it. Alva returned the smirk, resentment written all over his face as he pulled the Bosmer close enough for their noses to touch. “But don’t you for a second think I trust you any further than I can throw you.” He sneered.  
Enthir gulped, his wide eyes locked with Alva’s intimidating glare. His grip was strong for a man of his build, the Bosmer thought.  
“A tip for your sneaky endeavours, my friend.” Enthir giggled nervously, doing his best to diffuse the situation.  
He carefully placed his hands on top of the breton’s, trying discreetly to pry them off. He gave Alva a weak smile and a shrug once he realised his attempts were futile. Alva’s expression remained unchanged. The bosmer gulped before he continued. 

“Don’t get caught.”

The operation was in full swing once the sun was about to set. The bosmer had agreed to meet the breton during the witching hour to exchange information.  
Meanwhile, Alva had positioned himself on the stairs of the hall of the elements, waiting for the last specs of sunlight to vanish.  
He hummed to himself, watching the orbs of light he created from his fingertips dance around the room before dissolving into thin air. 

“You there! I have questions for you.”

The nasal voice calling out from behind Alva caused him to jump to his feet. His eyes anxiously widened at the figure standing by the open gate. Ancano frowned as his eyes lingered over the breton’s floating orbs. “A rather childish trick, don’t you think?” His condescending voice was laced with disapproval. When Alva remained quiet, the altmer stepped into the hall. 

“You were in Saarthal last week, correct?” He asked.

Alva nodded. Ancano’s expression softened slightly. 

“It has come to my attention that something was found there.” He prodded, scanning the breton’s face for answers.

Alva cautiously watched the mer step closer, towering over the breton’s short build. He balled up his fists inside his sleeves, feeling all color drain from them as well as his face. 

“Yes. I have already spoken to the archmage about it.” Alva dropped his gaze to the floor in defeat.

He hoped the altmer would end his interrogation, watching his feet cautiously as they began to circle around him. Alva cursed under his breath.

“I am well aware. I was expecting a full report once Tolfdir returned, but unfortunately those expectations have yet to be met.” A dramatic sigh left the advisor’s lips as he lamented his woes. Alva heard the steps of the Altmer’s boots stop right behind him. He swallowed thickly, composing himself as he nervously stared ahead. He could feel Ancano’s eyes ogle him, causing the fine hairs on the breton’s neck to rise.

Despite his attempts at collecting himself, Alva still jumped once Ancano began walking again. 

“You’re not very clever, are you?” The altmer grumbled as he rounded the breton. “I was hoping you could shed some light on the situation in Saarthal.” He clasped his hands behind his back, looking at Alva expectantly. 

Alva paused for what Ancano deemed too long, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Well?” He urged, his tone audibly vexed. 

“Sorry, I know nothing more than you, I assure you.” Alva’s cheeks grew warm. He internally cursed at himself for blushing at a time like this. 

Ancano’s eyes narrowed, offended this apprentice mage would dare waste his time.

Sounds of quick steps resonated down the halls, interrupting the altmer’s interrogation.

“Alright, let’s get this ball rolling! I’m calling an emergency meeting. I checked, and he isn’t in his quarters. I don’t know how much time we have, so we better act-” Enthir froze by the gate of the hall, his face paler than the snow gathering on the college grounds. His eyes darted back and forth between the two men. With his jaw open, he remained dumbfounded, as if frozen on his last word. 

“You dimwitted fool!” Alva mouthed to the stunned bosmer. 

It was the altmer’s turn to shift his gaze between the student and the scholar, trying to reveal their little charade. 

Enthir’s voice was the one to finally break the silence. “I- uh- That thing. You know, the thing you needed. I have that thing...in my quarters.”  
Everyone paused, a beam of sweat forming on the bosmer’s brow as he desperately looked to the breton for support.

“Oh yes! The thing.” Alva exclaimed, catching on. 

“The thiiiiing.” Enthir fingergunned the breton, frantically waving him over. “Sorry for interrupting your… whatever you were doing, but I need to borrow this student for a little while. The thing is urgent.”

“Very urgent.” Alva added, hurrying towards the bosmer. 

“Incredibly urgent. Can’t be helped. You know how things are. Not waiting for...erhm...” Enthir doubled down pathetically, leading Alva out of the hall, leaving a very suspicious altmer behind.

As soon as they were out of sight, the breton elbowed the scholar in his gut, frowning as he watched the bosmer hiss in pain. 

“What the fuck was that!?” Alva sneered as they hurried up the stairs to the Arcaneum. 

“How was I supposed to know-”

“Do you want to get us into trouble!? One could hear your hollering down to the Midden! What were you thinking?” Alva stopped at the top of the stairs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to get a grip. 

“People usually don’t frolic around those halls this time of day!” The bosmer defensively uttered. “Also, for all I know you could be plotting with that extremist.” Enthir crossed his arms, frowning at the student.

“You’re right. I should have suckerpunched that highbrow as soon as he approached me to prove my undying loyalty to you.” Alva growled through gritted teeth.

“Really?” The bosmer raised his brow in disbelief, his scornful stare fixed on the breton. He spoke to the student as if he was a disobedient child, to Alva’s great displeasure. 

Alva’s nimble fingers returned to the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, drawing deep, soothing breaths. For a moment he had to restrain himself against throwing the elf back down the stairs. 

“We can’t discuss this here.” He calmly noted. The bosmer was silent, offended by the breton’s scolding. Alva sighed.

“Is it still possible to finish the job tonight, you think?” He moved his hands to his hips. 

Enthir chewed on the breton’s words for a moment, raising his nose in the air and refusing to meet Alva’s gaze. 

“Not likely.” He pursed his lips. Alva nodded. 

“Then we will try once again tomorrow.” He proposed.

The elf finally looked at his partner in crime, his eyes travelling down the breton’s body. 

“Best to wait a few days. Suspicions are far too high right now.” He pointed out. Alva nodded once more.

They parted ways less than amicably, but their accord still seemed to be standing. Alva’s exhaustion finally set in, his steps growing heavy as he moved towards the hall of attainment with one goal in mind. His bed.


	2. A different approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “About our little exchange last night.-” Ancano began. Alva realised what the high elf coveted, adjusting his posture to look taller in an unsuccessful attempt at establishing boundaries...
> 
> Ancano approaches Alva once more for answers, and Enthir sets the heist in motion.

The sun was already out when Onmund woke him up. He didn’t say anything about it, but the breton knew he was itching to ask about the amulet. Neither of them said anything before Alva sat by his basin, splashing cold water onto his face.

“Urag has requested your assistance.” The nord leaned against the door frame, unsure if the breton had heard him. He opened his mouth to repeat himself.

“Right. Thanks for letting me know.” Alva yawned, turning to face his classmate. “About your amulet-” He began, watching Onmund’s eyes widen in anticipation. “I don’t have it yet, but I will soon. Just give me a few more days.” He watched as the nord deflated, a look of concern overtaking his previously hopeful demeanor. 

“You’re not going to steal it though, right?” He watched Alva rise to his feet and shake his head. Onmund breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I don’t know Enthir too well, but well enough to know the guy has some shady connections.”

“Just have some patience, try to focus on something else. You will have your amulet as soon as possible.” Alva smiled warmly, patting his concerned friend’s shoulder as he passed him. Onmund followed him out into the snow. “Like what?” He asked, sounding puzzled. “Hm?” The breton hummed lazily. “What should I focus on instead?” The nord rephrased his question, catching up to his classmate.  
“I don’t know. Something pleasant.” Alva suggested, growing tired of the persistent, lost pup tracking him through the snow.  
“Like what?” Onmund repeated. Alva sighed, his tired, pleading eyes meeting the nord’s. Onmund caught on, taking a step back. “Sorry, I’ll figure something out.” He spoke sheepishly. Alva nodded in approval before entering the college, leaving his classmate behind.

Alva entered the library, which would stand vacant were it not for two figures standing in the middle of the room. Trying not to intrude on their conversation, Alva snuck up to the front desk to wait for the librarian. Surely he would return soon. His attention fell on the discussion happening behind him, trying nonchalantly to seem like he wasn’t eavesdropping. 

“I've had yet another complaint. Please stop barging in on experiments in progress.” Master wizard, Mirabelle, grumbled. The stern woman was a force to be reckoned with. Being a skillful elemental mage, it was no surprise she had risen to one of the highest ranks of the college. Alva pitied whoever she was scolding until he heard the other figure speak.

"My dear, I am merely observing the proceedings." Ancano cooed in protest. His soft spoken manner concealing indignation.  
Mirabelle impatiently tapped her fingers against the book she was holding, Alva could practically hear the way she glared the altmer down, growing ever more tired of his antics.  
"Well then 'observe' from a greater distance. You're making people uncomfortable." She demanded, deciding their conversation was over. The breton could hear light footsteps making their way out of the library.

Alva’s attention shifted away from his superiors, rhythmically tapping his fingertips against the front desk. The breton wasn’t sure of how long Urag had been missing in action, but he hoped the orc would return to his station soon.

“Back in the day it was customary for students to greet their superiors when encountering them.” 

Ancano’s voice reverberated off the walls, a little too close for the breton’s comfort. Alva peaked over his shoulder, beholding the tall mer’s intrusive scowl.  
The advisor appeared distrustful of Alva, who quickly figured out he was still being scrutinized for his secrets. 

“Oh, I’ve never heard of that rule before.” Alva stretched his lips thin into a strained smile, as he turned around, the desk trapping the breton between it and the altmer.  
Ancano frowned, taking a step closer to ensure the conversation would be escape-proof. 

“Not a rule.-” He corrected in a sing-song voice. “As I said, a custom.” He returned the smile with a patronizing smirk, looking down at the flustered student now playing with his sleeves. 

“About our little exchange last night.-” Ancano began. Alva realised what the high elf coveted, adjusting his posture to look taller in an unsuccessful attempt at establishing boundaries. Ancano only raised an eyebrow in amusement. He didn’t move an inch. “I only wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else of importance you wanted to tell me.” The altmer’s intimidating gaze was slowly wearing Alva’s walls down.

“I don’t...think there is, to be honest. I was telling the truth when I told you I most likely know as much as you do on the matter.” Alva watched the altmer squint, doubting the breton’s sincerity. 

“Then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss.” Ancano stated coldly. Alva breathed a sigh of relief when the altmer took a step back. About to turn away from his superior, he felt a hand grip his arm firmly. Alva froze.  
The mer watched the breton squirm within his grasp, the color of his face draining.  
“But make no mistake, should you be lying, I will know. Sooner or later, your little secrets will be revealed.” His voice was low, stern. The grip around the breton’s arm tightening as he emphasised his words in a threatening manner.  
“O-ofcourse. That’s what you do- I mean, that’s your job here, yes?” Alva gulped, his wide eyes fixed on the altmer’s critical eyes.  
The grip around Alva’s arm loosened, and a smug smile stretched across Ancano’s face.

“I’m glad you understand.” He cooed, finally letting go of the breton’s arm. Alva pressed himself back against the desk, watching cautiously as the altmer turned around and strode down the hall. 

Alva’s breath rattled in his chest, his heart skipping a beat as a door shut behind him. Urag gave the breton a look of confusion after greeting him. 

“It looks like you’ve seen a specter, boy.” He noted, taking his regular seat by the desk. Alva nodded, giving a halfhearted chuckle. 

“Never mind that. How can I assist you today?”

The afternoon passed by quickly once Alva got to work. Being a rather uneventful day, the breton had gotten away with treating himself to some personal studies. His narrow nose buried within the old tomes, Alva barely paid any mind to the female altmer passing him by. She headed up to the orc, slamming a book down on the desk, demanding his immediate attention. The orc flinched, not from the loud thud, but from the poor treatment of his baby. 

“Careful now, Nirya.” He warned the altmer through gritted teeth, glaring up at her through his gray, unkempt brows.

“I would like to return this.” She sneered, seemingly in a sour mood. “Oh, and I would like to borrow another one. Enchanter’s Primer, I believe it is called.” Her haughty tone caused the orc to roll his eyes. He leaned back, considering whether or not to trust the uppity sorcerer with anything else from his collection. 

“Alva!” He shouted across the library. A few moments went by before the breton rounded the corner of a bookshelf, dusting his robes with his hands.  
“Nirya here needs a copy of...what did you call it?” The altmer turned to address the assistant. “Enchanter’s Primer. Do you have it?” She asked, the patience in her voice wearing thin.  
“I believe so.” Alva responded after a moment of hesitation. “Give me a moment to locate it for you.” The smile he gave her was unfortunately not returned.

After bending into chests and reaching the tops of shelves, Alva finally found what he was looking for. He blew over the cover, dusting the residue of time off with his hands.  
The altmer finally returned the breton’s smile as he handed her his find. She looked up after studying her price to see him ponder about something. 

“What?” She asked, looking over her robes to see if there was something wrong with them. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong with-” He paused, the altmer woman raised an eyebrow as she waited for him to go on. “Look. Would you mind if I asked you about something? About Ancano? I just wanted to hear your thoughts on him.” He admitted. The sorceress frowned. 

“Why are you asking me? Is it perhaps because we share the same heritage?” She probed. 

“No. Well- maybe, I don’t know.” The breton blushed, fearing he had made a mistake. The pathetic display earned a scoff from Nirya. 

“Don't trust that one. He's up to something. Most here are up to something, of course, but in his case, it's not good. I haven't figured it out yet, but I will. He is rather handsome though, isn't he?” She chuckled when she noticed the breton’s red face grow warmer and deeper in hue. He tried to protest, claiming to not pay any mind to such trivial things, but the mer did not seem to believe him.  
Before leaving, she made sure to thank the assistant for the book and the good laugh.

The chamber doors opened and shut. The bed creaked as a body weighed down the mattress. Alva exhaled, his limbs felt numb, and his head was spinning. Urag had him running around the library till he could barely stand, only letting him go once he managed to knock over three piles of books in rapid succession.  
Alva brushed his fingers lightly over his tense forehead.  
Where did all these donations come from anyway?  
He yawned, closing his eyes as the lids became heavy. He felt his body grow wearier and realised there wouldn’t be any point in pondering further about the books. For now, all he wanted to do was to sleep.

Days passed before Enthir approached Alva again, carrying a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he stepped over significantly shorter bookstacks.  
Alva had been worked to the bone, as usual, stacking and unpacking the quantity of books, tomes and scrolls. The towers of literature seemed to shrink more and more every day.  
He greeted the elf with his usual fresh-faced smile, extending his arms to show off his work. Enthir ignored his gesture, stepping closer while speaking in hushed tones. 

“So, you ready, kid?” He grinned.  
Alva immediately knew he was referring to their heist. He pulled the woodelf further out of sight before responding.  
“Tonight?” He asked, an unsure expression plastered across his face.  
“You’re not backing out now, are you?” Enthir challenged, raising an eyebrow as he studied the hesitant look in the breton’s eyes.  
“Our agreement still stands.” Alva stated firmly, as if trying to convince the bosmer when in fact he was one who could use some convincing.  
“Good! Good.” Enthir purred, nodding his head cheerfully. “Meet me outside the college once you’re done here.” His eyes wandered across the piles, estimating their size. “Should be dark out once you’re done.” His voice was laced with approval. “Such a diligent worker you are. We should all be so lucky to have such a hardworking and faithful assistant.” Despite his compliments, the way he spoke them left a sour taste in Alva’s mouth. 

“Very well.” Alva agreed, turning back to continue his work.  
“Oh! Before I go-” Alva tilted his head to look at the bosmer. “I’ve left a little surprise for you in your chambers. A little gift to ensure your success tonight. I think you’ll find it suitable. If you pull this off, consider it yours indefinitely.”

On his bed that night laid an enchanted robe and cowl. From what little Alva knew about enchanting, he could tell it was enhanced with stealth fortifying magic. The gift was either intended as a sweet gesture for his well being or as doubt of his capabilities. Knowing Enthir, it most likely proved the latter. 

The grounds were dimly lit by the blue light emitting from the focal points. The air was colder than usual, the snow crinkling like paper as the breton stepped out of the shadows.  
Enthir smiled as he noticed the student’s new attire, quickly treading towards him.  
“Looking good!” He all but exclaimed, eyes ogling the breton.  
“I considered a more tightfitting armor, you know, like that of the thieves guild. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time. If we don’t strike tonight, we will never get my documents back.”  
The breton frowned beneath his cowl, disgusted by the elf’s insinuations.  
“Why is tonight our only chance?” He asked, putting the mer’s remarks aside for peace sake.  
It was Enthir's turn to frown.  
“You shouldn’t worry that pretty little head of yours with such miniscule details. It’s best if you don’t know.” He stated, declaring the matter dead.  
Alva shrugged, just eager to get their scheming over with.  
Enthir took this as a cue to go on.  
“Right now Ancano is in a meeting with the arch mage, which will give us a significant window of time to strike. I will guide you to his quarters. You find the documents, and bring them back to me in the hall of countenance. Got it?” Enthir paused, looking to Alva for a sign of agreement.  
“Sounds simple enough.” Alva noted, gaining a smirk from the scholar.  
“Yes. Get this done, and you will have that useless amulet you wanted.” He jeered, grabbing the breton’s arm and leading him back into the college. 

Alva felt a knot grow in the pits of his stomach as they wandered through unfamiliar hallways. He wondered if he would be able to find his way out. Enthir enthusiastically dragged the breton down the corridor, paying no mind to the uneasy expression the student wore. They finally stopped, standing a good distance from a large iron door. Enthir pointed to it as if to explain what Alva had already figured out. Enthir smiled his devious smile, patting the breton’s back before making his way back the way they came from.  
Alva drew a deep breath, his mouth dry and his stance unsteady. He reminded himself how this was no different than how he usually snuck about the college, which seemed to ease his worries a little. Slowly, he moved himself closer to the door, feeling the cold handle in his hand. A chill of dismay made his fine hairs rise as he realised he had forgotten to get any lockpicks. He silently cursed as he pulled on the handle. Anticipation giving way to relief as the door creaked open. For a moment he stood there, pondering his next move when a thought struck him. 

Why was the door still open?

Ancano didn’t strike him as the type to not take precautions as simple as locking one's door. Alva swallowed dryly, deeming his time too short for speculations. He tiptoed into the room, quietly closing the door behind him.  
A bed, far nicer than his own stood against the corner of the room decorated with furs and silks too expensive for most scholars and even masters. Displayed on the walls were powerful staffs and enchanted weapons, but also tapestries embroidered with tributes to the aldmeri dominion.  
The breton slowly moved further into the room, scanning it for chests and dressers. A side table perhaps.  
Anywhere the altmer could have stored his prized possessions. After a brief moment, he decided to start with the writing desk full of unfinished letters. Alva began sneaking towards his target, only to stop dead in his tracks as he noticed something. Something that, were it not for the current situation, would be nothing out of the ordinary.. A singular candle, flickering in the already well lit room. All he could do was shiver as it dawned on him. The entire room was filled with candles. All of them lit. All melting the wax they had been cast in. 

“I did warn you.” The sinister voice of Ancano sneered from the entrance of the bed chambers. Alva froze, his eyes wide and his breath stilled. Never in his life had he yearned more for an invisibility spell.


	3. Unheeded Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alva plays a dangerous and dumb game, and wins equally stupid prices.

“I did warn you.”

Ancano scowled at the hunched over back of the student. He heard the faintest gasp muffled inside the cowl, expecting the young man to turn his head around. He didn’t. He stood frozen and dazed by what the altmer hoped to be shame.  
Ancano stepped sideways, blocking the door. He didn’t think the breton would be stupid enough to make a run for it, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Surely the fool had realised by now that he had in fact been double crossed. 

Ancano smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms as he watched the breton’s confidence deflate.   
“You see,” He began, proudly dragging out his explanation. “When you failed to produce a worthy explanation, I went to your friend, Enthir, for answers. He wasn’t too forthcoming at first, but at the reminder of his previous transgressions against the college, and the lack of consequences he faced, oh, he talked.”

Ancano frowned. The student had not yet turned around to face him, even though he was being addressed by a superior. Despite the humiliation he surely felt, Ancano had already grown tired of the mage's poor manners. The lack of respect made the mer grit his teeth, furrowing his brow when the breton chose to remain silent. The altmer had enough and stomped across the room to forcefully turn the man’s body.

The breton coiled away as the advisor ripped the cowl off his head, grabbing his chin to get a good look at the delinquents' guilty face. His eyes were shut, wincing as the altmer squeezed his jawbone between his fingers. 

“No doubt even a foolish cretin like yourself can comprehend the amount of trouble you are in.” The advisor snapped through his gritted teeth. The breton’s nimble hands struggled in vain to pry the angry mer off his red face, soft whimpers escaping his lips. The pained look on the man’s face was almost enough to absolve him of his sins. Ancano’s glare softened as he peered down at the body beneath him.   
“Theft like this would be enough grounds for expulsion.” He growled, watching the man freeze up again. Ancano almost lamented the breton’s lack of struggle, finding his futile attempts at escaping strangely endearing.  
“Well? Explain yourself!” The mer demanded, basking in the breton’s submission. 

“I-I-” The student was at a loss for words, hissing as the advisor tightened his grip. He lifted the breton’s face higher, brushing wild strands of hair out of the petrified man’s face with his other hand.  
“And look at me while you address me, if you please.” The altmer’s voice was soothing, although lacking any warmth. Wincing at his superior's touch and cold voice, the panicked student had no choice but to obey.  
“Please, I was only trying to help a friend.” The student’s pleas for mercy earned a haughty laugh from the advisor, before his expression sobered, his eyes distainful and accusatory.   
“So, yet another co-conspirator in your little scheme? I’ll need names.” Ancano cooed, curious to see if the student would lie. As he spoke, he noticed how the breton’s eyes widened and the red color in his cheeks vanished.   
“Oh, no. No. It’s not like that at all.” Ancano raised his brows, urging the student to go on and speak his mind. “Ah- I- Enthir and I were the only ones to- I mean, we didn’t really intend to cause any trou-”   
Lies. More lies. Ancano wrapped his hand around the breton’s neck, silencing the deception at its source.   
“Oh, but you did, didn’t you?” The altmer murmured.  
He felt the breton’s nails dig into the skin of his hands, a sinister smile unfurling across his face. The altmer’s aroused breath tickled the student’s face as he tried to speak, gasping desperately for the air he would undoubtedly waste.   
Ancano only decided to stop once the breton’s eyes rolled back, his puny breaths giving in to the pressure around his throat.  
He relaxed his grip, surprised to feel the breton stumble forwards, into his arms.  
The breton wheezed into the altmer’s robes, as Ancano’s astonishment became disgust laced with something very different.  
Ancano furrowed his brow, quickly shoving the student to the ground. He clenched his fists tightly enough to paint the knuckles white. His nostrils flared as he watched the breton struggle to gain composure. The advisor contemplated ending the mage’s miserable existence. A suitable fate for a low-life thief.  
A soft sound suddenly echoed from the young breton’s body, causing Ancano to pause. A second sound followed suit shortly after. A quiet sob.   
The advisor sighed, stretching his lips thin as he lifted his boot, tilting the breton’s tear stained face upwards to get a better look at him. Such a heart wrenching sight.  
Ancano regained a steady breath, watching the breton fail to do the same. Their eyes met briefly, before the breton’s gaze flickered to the side. So very submissive. Something about the vulnerable display of terror made Ancano feel more lenient, as if pitying the little thief.   
He sighed, removing his boot from the pathetic mage’s chin, observing as his gaze met the floor. 

Alva’s eyes stung as he choked back tears. His ears were ringing, and his heart was pounding. The cold hands he now focused his gaze on were obsessively picking at the stone floor. He wished he could disappear into the ground, safely bury himself underneath the stone and dirt. Another sob escaped him, louder than the previous ones. He regretfully grieved not throwing the treacherous bosmer down the stairs of the Arcaneum when he had the chance. 

“Let’s try this again.” Ancano’s stern voice jolted the breton back to reality, his vengeful sorrow giving away to fear. His voice cowered in the back of his sore throat, leaving the breton no choice but to bide his time and hope for an opportunity to escape and strength to seize it. 

“I need that name.” The altmer insisted impatiently.   
Alva thought of Onmund, who truly didn’t play any part in the disastrous heist. All he wanted was that damn amulet. Alva cursed his classmate for his recklessness. Onmund was the most naive person the breton had ever come across, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit the nord was also kind. A trait Alva greatly admired.  
His breath slowly returned to him, filling his lungs with air and his mind with vigour. 

“You try my patience, thief.” Ancano spat, grabbing a fistful of the breton’s hair and pulling him to his feet.   
Alva flinched, following the hand’s command to minimize the pain on his scalp. Not as unpleasant of a pain as he had expected. In fact, the burning sensation was satisfying, much like stretching a sore muscle. Alva bit his lip to suppress a moan itching his throat. His eyes were shut in focus, trying to steady his shaky breath once more. The touch of a clothed hand to his face caused him to jump and part his eyelids to see the altmer’s hand cup his cheek. Ancano wore an unreadable expression, causing the breton’s stomach to sink and grow warmer simultaneously. He gave the altmer a befuddled look, unsure if he was questioning the advisor himself or what the advisor did to him. 

Alva’s voice was hoarse when he began to speak through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the persistent itch in his throat and abdomen.  
“Please. Believe me when I tell you that this whole thing...happened at Enthir’s request. It was part of a trade.” He coughed, glaring at the altmer. 

“The amulet. I know.”

Alva’s eyes widened in disbelief as realisation sunk in. All this time, the altmer knew everything and was just playing some sick game of cat and mouse. Ancano observed the breton’s puzzled expression, giving him a sly smirk. 

“As per our previous conversation; It is my job to know these things.” 

Alva’s jaw hung open, his defeated look emphasised by the desperation in his voice as he pleaded;  
“Oh, please. Please! Onmund played no part in this! He came to me for help and I was the one who went to Enthir to get it back!” Alva pleaded, surprised to feel the altmer let go of him. He breathed a quick sigh of relief, gawking at the high elf.

“Thank you. That is all I needed.” Ancano calmly strode over to his writing desk, promptly dipping a quill into an inkstand to scribble down a few notes.  
The breton watched in horror as a new realisation sunk in. They were still playing the game.   
Alva cupped his mouth in regret. He could feel tears well up in his eyes once more, biting his tongue as he watched the altmer finish his dictations. 

“On the matter of your expulsion-” Ancano began, turning to face the stunned student addressing him in a matter-of-factly tone. He smiled sweetly, deception hiding behind his all too friendly facade.  
“I am willing to overlook your grave transgression, but I will require some form of compensation.” He crossed his arms, waiting for the breton’s response.

It took Alva a moment to compose himself, his breath shaking his voice as he spoke. “Compensation?” He asked, trying to picture anything he owned of value that the altmer could want.

The advisor stepped forward, watching the frail man cower and avert his eyes. “That’s what I said.” The altmer purred. The sweetness in his voice made the breton cringe.

“You’re going to have to elaborate.” Alva’s tone was cold, urging the high elf to keep his distance.  
For once, Ancano obliged his request.

“And I will, but not now. No. There will be plenty of time. You will return to me tomorrow evening for dinner. Afterwards I will name my terms, and you will accept them or leave the college immediately. Do you understand?” 

Alva paused, considering the advisor’s request for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Good. I’m glad we have an understanding. Now go. I have important issues to tend to.” 

Alva turned around, sauntering sheepishly through the exit of the chamber. His heart sank further with every step he took towards his bed, eager to hide away under the covers.  
He considered making off with what little he owned before sunrise, selling his tomes for coin to pay for a carriage ride to some place warmer. A nice dream, to be sure, but unfortunately nothing more than that. A fantasy. He could sell everything he owned and the robes he wore, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough to survive on. He had no one to depend on outside the college. An unfortunate truth, but the truth nonetheless. Scurrying down the hall, tears finally flooding down his cheeks, he wondered what the high elf wanted from a man who had nothing but books and time to his name.  
Behind him, the advisor bent down to retrieve a lonely cowl still laying on the floor. He looked it over, closing his eyes before burying his lengthy nose in the fabric.


End file.
